The Rod is Going On Strike!
by NephthysAmaya
Summary: The Millennium Rod is fed up with the crappy treatment it recieves and wishes to have a word.


**The Rod is going on strike!**

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously. I'm living in a box right now_

_Note: This is just me rambling on about a load of crap. Take it seriously and you'll get eaten. Rawr._

That's it. I'm going on strike. To say I've had enough would be an understatement. Three goddamn millennia I've spent being mauled by unwitting morons, who quite frankly wouldn't know what personal hygiene was if it came up and bit them in the behind. Three millennia I've spent obeying the demands and wishes of others. Want to know a secret? I'm really not into all this shadow magic crap. What about my ambition to open a Beauty Salon? Doesn't even get a mention, does it? Nobody even knows what my name is. Apparantly, it's the "The Millennium Rod". Excuse me - the? How would you like it if I started calling you "the" Yuugi Motou? You'd think I was downright rude, wouldn't you? So how come it's okay to do it to me? Nobody even knows about me. Why don't you sit and listen?

I don't remember much about my birth, expect there was fire. A lot. I'm not partial to the heat so it stayed imprinted on my memory. And a fair bit of screaming if I remember correctly. Silly humans, always making a fuss. No idea what it was all about of course. I'd only just been born. Maybe someone had died. What I do know is I was grabbed by some big sweaty priest guy And did big-sweaty-priest-guy have gentle hands? No, of course not. I thought the bugger was going to strangle me. I mean, how is that even fair when you've only just been born? The guy didn't let me go either. He carted me around like nobody's business. Every now and then, a deep voice would yell something about "Millennium Items" or something and then he'd yank me out of the folds of his clothes and hold me in the air. That sun was bloody hot.

I made a couple of friends. Mrs Puzzle was cool. She and I would sometimes have a bit of a chat when those priest guys whipped us out. She was quite the chatterbox actually. You could always rely on Mrs Puzzle for a good bit of gossip, but you didn't tell her anything you didn't want getting around the whole neighbourhood within minutes. Like I said, she was quite the chatterbox. When we thought Miss Tauk and Mr Ring were dating, it led to serious fireworks. Mrs Puzzle's gossip led to Mr Ankh breaking off his engagement with Miss Tauk. Mr Ankh always, always, always got it right except when it came to his own engagement, silly thing.

I digress. My second owner was a perfectly nice young man. Went by the name of Priest Seto. Very loyal to the Pharaoh, and very hard-working and compassionate. I was still very young then, and I had the slightest little crush on him. Well, a Rod can dream can't she? Course, that bloody Pharaoh had to die and I had to get shoved in some tiny little hole in the ground. Why? All my friends got away and it was just me, and that whiney little brat Miss Tauk. Torture! All she talked about all day long was how we robbed her of her only chance of happiness and blah blah blah. That Tauk could bore for Egypt. It was like a broken hieroglyph, going on and on and on about the same thing all day. You'd think after three thousand years, she'd get over it but no, of course not because then there'd be nothing to annoy me. Most of us would have displayed a little ability to work out what was coming, considering what a rat that Ring was anyway, but not Miss Tauk, oh no. She had the psychic ability of a goldfish. Most of the time she was just making it up as she went along.

Anyway, once again I digress. Every now and then the humans had some weird ceremony thing, and some talk of handing me and Tauk over. I don't know what happened during them. I always conveniently managed to sleep through them. I commend the guys that managed to get through it. Ra knows how they managed. Same thing, century in, century out. What I wouldn't have given for a night down the pub or something. It's no fun doing nothing for that many long years.

When that Malik kid showed up, I knew exactly what he was talking about. He had the right idea, aka get the hell out. I'd moaned about the heat but goddamnit, underground was no fun either. First time he picked me up, I didn't like it one little bit though. There was some weird vibe coming off him, like something had changed. He shoved me near his father's face and, well I suppose mouthwash companies were going through a recession that year because the guy's breath was not pleasant. Nor was what happened next of course. I didn't like being plunged into that old man any more than I imagine the old man enjoyed having me plunge into him. His flesh was all crinkled and sickening, and I still haven't managed to get the blood off me. Icky, gunky stains and crap. Course, t'was nice to finally see some action after that long of nothing, and the guy was a bit of an ass so I didn't feel too sorry for him. That Malik kid made me feel appreciated. I'll admit it, the constant stroking got a bit iffy but I couldn't bear to tell the lad I wasn't interested so I rose above it. Didn't get a moment's peace after that. And for once, I loved it. There was so much to do! Whether it was helping to torture that silly, silly Mai girl or nearly stabbing that Rishid guy in the head, the adrenalin was such a wonderful change. By the time he duelled the Pharaoh, (who I'd never liked much anyway) I was on such a high. So what bloody happened? His hikari takes over again and decides to be good, that's what! Then, I get shoved in the body of some fat guy and, I can't even be bothered to go on. I'm sure you know it all already and I'll just be wasting my time. As if I haven't wasted enough already. So, if you'd like to put down your magazine we shall continue with my official list of complaints, yah?

I'd like to take a moment to add that it was me who did all of the work. Malik bloody Ishtar never hurt anyone, and Mr Sweaty-Priest-Guy didn't either. I did! So stop glorifying those posers and start giving me a little bit of the credit. Y'know on Wikipedia, that Malik kid has a gigantic page dedicated to him and I have a bloody paragraph! What could he have done without me? He'd be flower-arranging or something equally insulting for a living. Either give me due credit, or give nobody credit.

It's not even just that either. The fans don't seem to respect me. I'll bet even if they did write about me, they'd write a load of nonsense and make me seem like a petulant little turnip brain. Not that they ever do. I earlier mentioned Mrs Puzzle. Well, what makes little miss, "I'm great", and "I'm fun for kids", and "I have the soul of an ancient Pharaoh inside me" better than me? Puzzleshipping? Now what the heck is that about? I do twice as much as she ever did, and I don't get a whole slash fandom named after me, oh no.

And look at what those horrible 4kids did to me! I had a cool blade goddamnit, and they edited it out! They got rid of Mr Stabby! What did Mr Stabby ever do to them? How's he supposed to feed Mrs Stabby and the little Stabbys with no income? Do you see why I can't work with these people anymore?

So, I'm sure you'll understand my decision. This job simply isn't worth the long hours, backbreaking work and thankless treatment. I'm sorry but I am a Rod with ambitions and talents surpassing this. To cut a long story short, I am simply too good for this job,and I am beginning to suspect that the job needs me far more than I need it. Hence, I am on strike. Thank you and good day.


End file.
